Get Your Motor Runnin'
by Silver Flame Alchemist
Summary: Steve realizes too late that there's something going on here he shouldn't interrupt, some holy rite that he's stumbled upon in the dead of the night, in Tony's garage (their garage) where the lights are turned down low and mellow jazz is filling the space, making it feel cloistered and he really shouldn't be here. - Tony/Steve -


_The challenge was Stony._

 _I got bonus points if the term "Cherry" was used._

 _Spot the Cherry~!_

* * *

Steve realizes too late that there's something going on here he shouldn't interrupt, some holy rite that he's stumbled upon in the dead of the night, in Tony's garage ( _their_ garage) where the lights are turned down low and mellow jazz is filling the space, making it feel cloistered and _he really shouldn't be here_. He's half expecting Tony to pop up at any second, scantily-clad girls at his side, a bottle of something strong and expensive held in one hand and something probably-illegal in the other. The whole garage reeks of Tony's seduction technique, shadows and smooth surfaces, and Steve's uncomfortable with how comfortable thinking about Tony's technique is.

He shakes his head to clear it, takes a look around the dimly lit space, comes up empty and takes a few more cautious steps into the abyss of engines and chrome. Tony should be here, and hopefully he'll be alone, because Steve needs to have a conversation about his baby, his bike, and he wants to do it without another Stark Strumpet (Clint's phrase, not his) interrupting.

The song ends, the jazz continues, and Steve wonders if this is all some elaborate ruse to get him on candid camera, or something. He wouldn't put it past Tony to pull something like that, actually, and now that he's here, seeing this space so completely different from what he's used to…

His thoughts all taper off as he hears movement, jerks back to reality, spots a messy brunette head peeking over the top of a hood and relaxes only slightly, because it's moving an awful lot for someone just tinkering.

"Tony?"

The head emerges fully above the hood, a crooked grin plastered on the award-winning face as Tony pushes himself to his feet.

"Hey, sorry, did you call me? Didn't hear a thing. Trying a new technique for tinkering. I like it. Sorry, what's up? Need something?"

He's in ratty jeans a size too big and a black wife beater, arms smeared with grease and oil. Steve can tell he's been down here for hours, and wonders if Tony even realizes how long he's been submerged in his engines and music.

"Had a question about my bike. It can wait, though, I just… How long have you been down here?"

"Uhh, Jarvis?" Tony throws a glance toward the ceiling before he bends to pick up a stray part from where he abandoned it on the floor by the front wheel. "How long have I been down here?"

"Approximately five hours, sir." The crisp reply comes seconds later.

"Five hours." Tony repeats, throwing on another smile. "What about your bike? I thought it was fine."

"It was stuttering a little, last time I took it for a spin. I just wondered if I could bring it down here to work on it…"

"This isn't my exclusive garage, Steve. You're welcome to the tools and stuff. No worries." He claps him on the shoulder, realizing only after his hand has made contact that it's still covered in grease. "Oops."

Thankfully, Steve isn't overly attached to his clothing, so he shrugs it off and smiles. "Thanks, Tony."

"No problem. Where's your bike? You can work on it now if you want. I've got to finish fixing up this beauty and I don't mind company." Tony waves his rag at the pristine Corvette he's been working on. "Jarvis; bring in Cap's bike, would you?"

"I don't have any work clothes…" Steve knows it sounds like a flimsy excuse to get out of a date, but he says it anyway. He might not be attached to his clothes, but he likes to keep them in good condition.

"Borrow some." Tony shrugs. "Hell, strip naked, I don't care. There's clothes in the drawers over there. The pants might fit, but the shirts won't. Sorry."

"I'll manage."

Five minutes later, Steve's stripping down his engine, taking it apart one piece at a time, carefully laying all the components out on a cloth he pilfered from the cabinet that held the absurdly over-sized coveralls that are tied around his waist to keep them from falling off, white undershirt now far past saving, covered as it is in smudges of grease and oil.

"How come I didn't know you knew how to do that?" Tony asks from the other side of the room, pausing in his reconstruction of the Corvette to stare at Steve's methodical dismantling of his bike. "That's oddly hot, actually."

"I beg your pardon?" Steve turned to look at him, eyebrows raised.

"Nothing. I said literally nothing." Tony threw him a wink that Steve frowned at. "Where'd you learn to fix up your baby?"

"Germany." Steve replied, returning his attention to the machine. "One of my boys was really good with his hands, and he taught me."

"Just about engines?" Tony asked, and there was no missing the grin in his voice.

" _Just_ about engines." Steve confirmed, giving him a look.

"Pff—cherry." Tony laughed, going back to his own engine. "Figure out what the problem is, yet?"

"Looks like the carbon just started to build up. I thought I'd cleaned it out recently… Guess not."

"Lemme see." Tony stood and strode over, bending over Steve's back to peer at the engine. "Yeah, looks like it. Need me to help you flush it out?"

Steve turned his head carefully, not wanting to smack his head against Tony's chest. "Do you have something that does that, now?"

"Did you not?" Tony asked, straightening and walking over to a work bench.

"No, we just sort of made do." Steve started to clean the parts so he could put them all back clean. "It's not really easy to find a mechanic's shop in the middle of war-torn Germany, but you know how it is. You get by."

"Yeah, well, now you don't." Tony tossed him a small cylinder. "This should get your motor runnin' again."

"What part of _we just sort of made do_ did you not get?" Steve waved the contraption at him. "You act like I know how to use this."

Tony rolled his eyes, sighing dramatically as he took up his position behind Steve again. "For the love of… It's not _rocket-science_ , Rogers."

"You say that, and yet…" Steve grinned, throwing him a look over his shoulder. He was met with a raised eyebrow and a compression of lips, Tony snatching the tool out of his hand.

"Move. I gotta get in there to get this to work."

"My baby, my hands on her delicate parts." He ignored the feral grin that was instantly thrown his way. "Just show me how to use it."

"Here, you just run it along the vents, like this..."

Tony put his hands over Steve's and guided him through it, voice low against his ear, and Steve wondered if maybe there were cameras after all, because this all felt oddly not normal.

"That should do it. Lemme see." Tony leaned over him again, hands braced on his shoulders.

"Stark." Steve bit out, glaring up at him.

"C'mon, you're big and muscly, you can take it." He grinned impishly, peeling himself away. "You can put all her delicate parts back now, Captain."

"Thanks, Tony."

"Don't thank me yet. Thank me after you get her purring again and we know that fixed it."

"And if we didn't?"

"Then you can take it out on me in a very creative way, and I'll make it up to you."

They both stopped what they were doing and stared at each other across the space, Steve blinking in surprise as Tony's mouth jumped up awkwardly at the corners.

"Did I mention I'm a little hung over and a lot tired?"

"You should go to bed, then."

"Yeah, well, you should come with me."

Again Steve stared at him, and this time Tony put a hand over his eyes, muttering under his breath.

" _Christ_ , Stark, you couldn't keep your mouth shut for five more seconds, could you?" He peeked through his fingers at the blonde. "Sorry, that kinda came out—right, actually. Completely right."

"Are you…" Steve felt his ears start to burn as realization started to dawn on him. "Did you just _proposition_ me?"

"Oh, God, Steve, no one calls it that anymore." Tony thought for a second. "Okay, _Thor_ probably calls it that, but that's other reasons. I'm hitting on you. Learn the lingo of the times, Cap."

"Yes, Tony, I know what the kids are calling it, nowadays." Steve shot back. "I'm making sure I understood what you meant, not what it's called."

"Oh, well, yeah." Tony grinned, but there was a nervous edge to it that Steve recognized. "I'm propositioning you. God, that sounds so weird coming out of my mouth. Can I call it something else? Hitting you up? No, that's not right. Booty-call, maybe?"

" _Stark_." Steve interrupted before he could get carried away in his rambling. "Why?"

"You have a mirror, right?" Tony deadpanned, staring at him. "Plus, it really is hot that you can take apart an engine, not a lot of people can do that. I see why people think it's hot when I do it, now, actually. And there's the whole pinnacle-of-justice, crushing-on-you-since-forever thing. But that's, you know. Other details." He trailed off, waving his rag like a white flag of surrender, clearly not sure how to next proceed: a rare moment for Tony Stark.

Steve blinked several times, and then shook his head to clear it. "Sorry, what?" He asked after a pause.

Tony pulled himself to his feet, crossing to the Captain and kneeling next to him.

"You're really hot, and I really want you." He summed up, smiling his magazine-cover smile.

"Stark, don't lie to me." Steve managed, and he realized now just how warm the hand on his shoulder was and just how close the brunette's face was to his.

"I hate that you question my billionaire smile. It is literally the most infuriating thing you do. Okay, second maybe to the way you hook your thumbs around your belt, like I need any more reason to stare at your belt and wonder how hard it would be to take off with my teeth, which, by the way, is one of my many hidden talents."

"Stark, you're rambling again." Steve tried to ignore the hot flood that was rushing down his neck, but it was hard with Tony's ever-growing grin right in front of him.

"I'm rambling because my brain goes all squirrely when you're around. Also infuriating and kind of hot, actually; super distracting, though, like the way your lips curve when you smile and _fuck it_ —"

The hand on his shoulder caught the back of his neck and pulled him forward to be caught by a pair of slightly rough lips, the scrape of his goatee both familiar and completely foreign at the same time. The fact that Steve didn't punch his lights out immediately surprised them both, and Tony pulled back with a smug smirk.

"So I'm going to assume that since I'm both still conscious and still breathing, you're not nearly as against this as I thought you'd be."

"I guess I'm not." Steve knew the flush had reached his face at this point, but he didn't really care, because all he could feel was Tony's lips on his and the hand working its way into his hair.

"Oh, cherry, it's not fair." Tony clicked his tongue. "Do you have _any_ idea how crazy you make me, just being near you? It's completely insane."

"So is kissing my friend in his darkened garage at an ungodly hour of the night." Steve pointed out.

"Yeah, well, that's a crazy I can understand." Tony grinned, leaning in as he caught Steve's hair, tugging his head aside in order to reach his ear. "Hell, that's the kind of crazy I can get behind."

A sound left Steve's throat that he hadn't intended to make, and Tony chuckled against his pulse before he pulled away and looked at him, suddenly sober.

"You're not going to hate yourself for this in the morning, right? Cause I play for keeps, and I don't like people touching my stuff, so if you want this, and _God_ I hope you do, I want you to know this isn't just a drunken fling thing for me. Just so we're clear."

"Stark, if you don't kiss me, I will have no choice but to take you by force."

A broken groan left the brunette as he crashed their lips back together, the hand in Steve's hair leaving to find its way under his shirt and along rippling muscle that tensed and bunched with every movement, each new experience causing a new reaction, a shudder here, a jump there, a positively _sinful_ moan following soon after.

Grease-slick hands slid under clothing and tugged it free of warm bodies that collided like puzzle pieces, shifting, twisting, and fitting together perfectly. Mouths caught on curves and hard edges, leaving marks and claiming sounds before they could fully form. Fingers dug into muscle and soft flesh, pulling closer and tugging sighs past kiss-swollen lips that echoed around the cavernous garage. Cold concrete burned under them, a sharp reminder of where they were, and as Tony crawled down his body Steve had to catch him and pull him back up, catching his breath along with the brunette.

"Tony, wait…"

"Second thoughts?" Tony asked, cautious eyes belying his cocky grin. "I can respect that."

"No, no, I want this. I want _you_." Steve licked his lips nervously as a thoroughly smug grin lit up Tony's face. "Just… Can it not be here?"

"No one's up, Cap. Cept us. Obviously." He punctuated the remark with a slow roll of his hips and Steve nearly lost his breath all over again.

" _Tony_." The name left him in a breathy sigh that he would deny later, and he managed to collect himself enough to stare up at the brunette that loomed over him, all taught muscle and tan skin, smirk firmly in place as he divested Steve of any innocence left him against the cold concrete floor.

"I'm not gonna make it upstairs." Tony leaned in to whisper against Steve's chest, kissing his way up to the blonde's ear. "So, round two can be in bed, but this time it's down here with the shadows and Ella serenading us, unless you tell me right now that you want me to stop."

Steve opened his mouth, unsure of what he was about to say, and Tony snaked a hand down the front of his coveralls, and Steve let out an obscenely loud sound somewhere between a moan and a gasp, earning him a purr of approval from the mechanic.

"God, you are _incredible_." Tony hummed, pulling himself away far enough to watch Steve crumble completely, skin flushed and pink, lips parted as he gasped for air, lids dipped almost shut as long lashes kissed his cheeks. "I can't wait for round two."

"Y-you're assuming you ever make it through round one." Steve challenged, managing a smirk of his own.

"Oh, challenge accepted, cherry!" Tony grinned, catching his lips in a quick, hard kiss before he made his way back down Steve's chest, and the Captain buried his fingers into the thick brown locks, head tipping back in a gasp.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, the part that wasn't completely consumed with how Tony was using his tongue, he really hoped that if there _were_ any hidden cameras, Tony was the only one with access. Having Tony take him apart with his hands and mouth was one thing… Having the team watch while he did it was another.

His rational mind was wiped clean in a wash of white-hot ecstasy that rolled over him like a tidal wave as his eyes rolled back into his head, and Tony groaned in a pleased way, kissing his way back up to Steve's ear, chuckling when Steve finally managed to find enough air to breathe again.

"What was that about finishing, hmm?"

"Fine, fine, you win." Steve managed to pant out, his whole body going limp.

"Then you owe me a round two."

"Your room or mine?"

"Mine. My sheets are silk and feel heavenly on skin. You'll love it. God, there's so much you need to learn about this. I forgot how fun virgins are."

"I already know one thing you'll enjoy." Steve grinned, winking up at him. "Super soldiers have a very fast recovery time."

" _Fuck_ , how is that fair to the rest of… Jarvis! Clear us a path to my penthouse, I'm not letting anyone see Captain Rogers for the next 48 hours. At least."

"Oh course, sir… I shall inform any villains that come calling that you are both preoccupied."

"Good man." Tony grinned, helping Steve to his feet, laughing as he wobbled like a newborn fawn. "You okay there, cherry?"

"You know that's not going to be applicable in about twenty minutes, right?" He huffed out, tugging his coveralls back into place.

"Technically, no, but I'll still call you that." Tony winked, slapping Steve's ass as he hurried to the elevator. "Partner privileges, and all that jazz."

"Stark…"

"Don't you _Stark_ me, Captain. You're the luscious red topping on my sexual sundae, I'll call you cherry if I damn well please."

"…Ignoring for a moment the fact that you just used the phrase _sexual sundae_ , do I at least get to call you something embarrassing as well?"

"With your voice? Honey, you can call me anything you want."

"Let's start with _mine_ , then."

" _Dammit_ Rogers, round two's gonna be in the elevator if you aren't careful!"

Steve grinned, pinning him against the wall of the elevator. "I told you. _Very_ fast recovery time."

"Up, Jarvis, up!" Tony called, glowering at the ceiling. "We do not have time to loiter in the lift!"

"Of course, sir." The doors shut and the lift rose, right along with Steve and Tony.

* * *

Captain America/Iron Man and all related characters _belong to:_ Marvel Comics, and their respective creators


End file.
